


Regret

by letswatchthecityburn



Series: With The Moon I Run [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 18:18:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15200648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letswatchthecityburn/pseuds/letswatchthecityburn
Summary: Stiles makes a hard decision that he believes closes one chapter of his life completely. His decision leads to a new and exciting awakening he never dreamed possible. Can he move past his fear and regret to fulfill his purpose?





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ARTs_Ninja_Pal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARTs_Ninja_Pal/gifts), [SilverYaoiHellion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverYaoiHellion/gifts), [tzzzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzzzz/gifts).



> Thank you guys for waiting. This series really has been my baby for years. I've been trying to be more consistent but as always struggling a bit. However, I can't deny how much my writing has grown since I created the first version. I wanted to delete it so bad but it truly is a testament to hard work. Thank you for all who've stuck with the story and continue to follow my work. I will be reposting this chapter most likely but this is just to get the ball rolling.

Regret. 

It was something Stiles had grown all too familiar with since he’d left. He made it to Virginia and settled in quickly. If settling meant, renting out a motel room for a month and crying until his throat was hoarse nearly every night. He did his best to keep his head held high. He’d made a decision and no matter what the consequences he knew it had been the right one. So, he got a job at a coffee shop and started researching in his spare time. But still, every night he dreamed. He dreamed of Derek, he dreamed of his father, and he dreamed of the pack he abandoned. He saw their hurt, their disappointment, and it was nearly enough to drag his sorry ass back to California.

Then his dreams began to shift, images came to him in flashes. He dreamed of a firecracker, red hair that glowed like fire in the sun, kunai knives, glowing hands, scuffed burgundy combat boots with , and a revolver. Something was thrumming under his skin, he could feel it pulsating. Deaton had called him a spark so he was pretty sure that he was the firecracker but the others he wasn’t sure about. He knew his dreams were leading him closer and closer to them. They were supposed to be together he was sure of it. Every night he dreamed and every morning he sketched everything whether it was old or new. It felt like a summoning. Like he was connected to all the images he placed on paper.

He wasn’t sure what Deaton had meant by spark and google didn’t have much of an idea either but weirds things began to happen around him. Objects would move randomly when he was on the other side of the room and he’d woken up in the middle of the forest one night surrounded by runes he’d presumably drawn into the sand in his sleep. Beacon Hills had been like a cloud shrouding his mind from the truth of himself and now that he was out from under it he was beginning to wake up.

However, the process wasn’t easy in the slightest. Metamorphosis by laws of nature was one of the hardest things to go through. He was constantly overwhelmed and unable to sleep with all these foreign symbols jumbling around in his head. Over the weeks, the symbols came more frequently and more intensely not just at night. Instead of drawing a leaf into a regular’s latte he began drawing runes unconsciously. Afterwards, he escaped to the back of the shop and tried to splash some water on his face to help him focus. He felt as if he was going insane. He wasn’t even consciously focusing on the runes it was like something else was awakening them.

“Excuse me,”

The soft melodic twinkle of a woman’s voice came from the front effectively interrupting his thoughts and he nearly tripped over himself to get back to the front. The sight that greeted him made his mouth dry. Standing in front of the pastries was the woman of his dreams. _Literally._ Her hair, which contrasted sharply against her rich caramel skin, surrounded her like a halo of fire fanning out in defined little ringlets around her freckled face. She stared at him with knowing eyes that were dancing with hues of green, gold, and brown. She reached out her hand, nodding insistently, and unconsciously he placed his fingers in her dainty palm.

Immediately, he felt as if he he’d been shocked. Everything he’d ever thought he’d known unraveled before his eyes and he started to see things for what they were. Knowledge about patterns of geometry, equations of life, runes, auras, energy, and magic all flashed before his eyes. When he finally came to, he stared at her with new eyes. He didn’t know her but in that moment he knew could trust her wholeheartedly. Being around her the thrumming finally stopped, he felt whole, he felt at peace. This is what his body was preparing him for.

“Who are you?” He finally mustered, in awe of all the feelings her presence had drummed up inside of him. 

“Arabelle, but you can call me Belle if you want since it’s kind of long.” He scoffed, “If you think yours is long you should hear my real name.”

 She laughed at that, a little too hard if you asked him. It was as if she did know it.

  

They were seated in the corner. She seemed at home, happily sipping her overly sugary latte, whilst he shifted nervously in his seat. It was not everyday that your dreams literally came true.  He’d flipped the open sign to the shop announcing to the public outside that he was taking a much needed lunch break. He couldn’t stop staring at her. She was beautiful, of course, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t stop staring. She was glowing, literally. She was surrounded by a combination of yellow, orange, and green. She radiated confidence, optimism, and an overall energy that he didn’t know he’d been missing.

He’d gotten more confident in his appearance over his senior year but that was all shallow confidence. He’d yet to unlearn the doubt, the constant second guessing, or really any insecurities he had deep down inside himself. He couldn’t see that he was surrounded by so much good when he was in Beacon Hills because he was so unhappy with himself. He liked to believe in a world where having these revelations were enough for him to be happy. However, he lived in reality and knew that the only thing that would give him lasting happiness was change.

“Deaton, the emissary, called me a spark.”

Arabelle scoffed, twiddling her green finger nails over the dead plants in the corner, “Emissaries, sparks, the whole lot of them are all born of witchcraft. They love to separate themselves but in the end we run in the same circles. That emissary gave you a push. But he wasn’t strong enough to awaken you completely, only a natural born witch can do that.” There was an undertone of smugness as she nodded pointedly towards the window. He followed her nod to where the plants that had been drooping and devoid of color were now evergreen and bursting with life.

Her expression grew serious as she continued, “Sadly, they hunt and gut my sisters. I can’t tell you how many of us there are left, just that we are scattered, our connections weak, and most live in fear. I’ve lived long enough to not let fear decide anything for me so when your energy called to me...I came. You have natural born witch in you, singing strong, either your mother or father passed magic on to you. It’s why I was able to find you.”

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes were on her freshly manicured nails, her expression unimpressed, “Are you breathing?”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair, “Okay, point taken. A better question would be, why did you come?”

She seemed thoughtful for a moment before she spoke seemingly nervous, “I was meditating when you first called to me. The vision knocked the wind out of me. It was like you were reaching out to me it was so vivid. It wasn’t the first time I’d had a vision of you so I know that I was always supposed to find you. You have always been strong, even when you didn’t know it. When you were in distress I could feel you then but nothing compared to since you’ve been here. You’ve been in real pain but when I close my eyes and I focus on you I always see my hand in yours leading you away from all this. The pain, the unsureness, and onto something bigger than both of us.  I’m supposed to be your guide. That’s my purpose now.” She held out her hands, seemingly gauging his reaction. He slowly but surely placed his hands in hers feeling the immediate warmth and knowledge that flooded him.

Stiles hesitated before speaking, “There are others. I feel like I’m supposed to find them too.”

Her eyes shot up and a smile overtook her face that was so bright it almost seemed to twinkle, “I know. We’ll find them together, of course, silly. It’s all written in divine time.”

He felt himself smiling, even though he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong underneath the surface. He felt nauseous. Scared. He wanted to get in Jeep and go right back where he came from but the sureness in her eyes made him pause. 

“So, when do we start?”

  

Stiles hadn’t expected to be back on the road so soon but Arabelle insisted that he needed to be away from people when he awakened. His boss was exceptionally unhappy with Stiles sudden need to bail but came around fairly quickly even gifting him a special croissant as a parting gift. Then the journey towards what seemed to be destiny really began. He followed her for miles down endless highways and winding dirt roads until there were no roads. Another time he thanked the most high that he drove a Jeep there was no way a cute little KIA could’ve survived the unforgivable terrain. As time went on the terrain got a little smoother and over the roaring of his tires he could hear water lapping against rocks. The air was thick and muggy which he hated but he couldn’t deny that being near water always made him calmer.

They arrived in the dead of night. She pulled in an open clearing and he’d stared up in awe as the trees above them lit up gradually revealing a series of bridges. Stiles was iffy about climbing up the rickety staircase covered in vines to get to the floating bridges but he couldn’t let her show him up. When he joined her on the steps he realized that they weren’t regular stairs at all. They were vines that had wrapped and laid over each other to create a sturdy base.

The vines propelled them through the air until they were standing in front of a platform. She practically dragged him up onto the platform and he was shocked to see that the string lights were actually bioluminescent vines. They curled around her outstretched hands affectionately before spreading out making room for him as they moved through together. It was the most amazing thing he’d ever witnessed. As they moved through she explained that they reacted to her presence alone now that she was the only one left in her family. Stiles felt selfish again here he was running from people who loved him unconditionally and she had no one. His thoughts were quickly railroaded as they moved closer and he saw the outline of a home coming into view. Over the top of the roof he could see glittering water that stretched for miles. The moon was illuminating the water and the sky was dancing with what looked like a billion stars.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Arabelle pausing to join him in admiration. He couldn’t deny the beauty, of course, but he was distracted by more than just that. His mind was still focused on what he’d left behind. All he saw reflected back at him were the bright blue irises of a love he’d abandoned. He wondered if Derek hated him. He wondered if anyone understood. 

Arabelle butted in, as if sensing the dip in his mood, grabbing his arm and tugging him through the huge French doors, “I’ll show you everything tomorrow. You need to rest.”

He tried to give a real smile when she led him to a beautifully decorated room. It had a large bed adorned with a canopy draped from the ceiling. She had glass terrariums hanging from the ceiling like artwork and all along the walls were potted plants that all looked to be flourishing. The energy in the room wrapped him in a warm, safe cocoon. He almost felt fine until he was alone again. That was when the loneliness set in. He thought about that morning. Derek had been lying there bare and vulnerable. He imagined what it would've been like if he'd climbed right back in the bed. He imagined what life was like now that he was gone. He’d not only left Derek but his father and pack as well. He hoped Derek would forgive him one day but he couldn’t imagine a world where Derek would after all he’s been through in his life. Derek didn’t trust easily with good reason and Stiles had worked so hard to prove himself trustworthy just to leave. Stiles realized then that he’d done exactly what everyone else in Derek’s life had done. He had used, betrayed, and abandoned him. He buried his face in the pillows trying to avoid the guilty thoughts that threatened to eat him alive.


End file.
